


Giddy & Gay

by giddyant



Category: Philadelphia Story (1940)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:43:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giddyant/pseuds/giddyant
Summary: Dexter and Tracy host a party. Mike enjoys the after-party.





	Giddy & Gay

‘Oh Tracy, what a lovely night! You always throw the best parties!’ carolled Mrs. Vandermeer.

Tracy thanked her distractedly and tugged Dexter over to an alcove and hissed in his ear, ‘Oh, Dext, look at him. He’s a lost lamb.’

‘And you’re running the abattoir, Tracy. You invited him, after all.’

It was true. Macauley Connor was fiddling with the curtains absent-mindedly and occasionally throwing mournful glances at the doors and windows. 

‘Well, he wouldn’t take the house in Unionville, Dext, what on earth was I supposed to do? Leave him to the rain and the snow? Do you know, I swear that suit’s got bigger on him.’

Dexter nuzzled her hair. ‘You hide it well, Tracy, but you’ve a heart. A heart for penniless writers, anyhow.’

‘I know that tone, Dexter. It’s your favourite one for pricking me.’

‘And I know that look you’re giving Connor, Tracy. I saw it on both our wedding days.’ 

Tracy gave him a wounded look. ‘Dext, you’re as hung up on Mike as I am. You can’t blame it all on the weakness of woman.’

‘I freely admit it, Red, but I still think this won’t be as straightforward as you seem to think it will be. Mike’s got his pride and you know it. We’ll have to tread carefully and choose our moment well. Stow that Tracy steel and maybe consider a softer approach than your usual brick-bat.’

Tracy held his gaze for a few moments and then nodded. 

‘You win, Dext. You have free rein to curtail my wooing if it grows too forceful and scares the horses.’

Dexter leaned down and kissed her. ‘It’s a delicate situation, Red. He might think we’re crazy and run a mile, after all. Now, hear that music? Let’s cut a rug.’

Tracy grinned at him and swept him off to join the rest of the dancers. 

 

Mike, meanwhile, wondered to himself why the hell he’d agreed to come along to one of the Havens’ parties. Oh, he knew why, of course. Racketing around his garret all day not writing the Great American Novel was all well and good, but a man needed an outing (and a meal) every now and then, he’d told himself. And it wasn’t as if he could squire Liz around town after their blow-up. He’d needled her once too often about her new job with Confidential and she’d blown her stack, telling him that not everyone had a bored society girl sweet on them and she for one had to take her money where she could find it. 

Before she left, she’d smiled at him slightly and paused in the door.

‘You know, Mike, Joe Smith may have been a rat, but I suppose I was glad I married him. And you might be impossible to please and self-righteous to boot, but I suppose I’m glad to have had you for a time, too.’

And that was that. And now he was moving through crowds of people called Tiggy and Boffo and other names found in circuses. 

How bad an idea would it be to dive into the punchbowl?

 

He meandered through the crowd, refusing the proffered champagne. That particular mist would only cause trouble. He clutched his whisky and found a good wall to lean against so he could stew properly. _Byronic or moronic_ , he thought to himself with no small amount of deprecation. 

He was lonely, that was the problem. Lonely and missing his sparkling hosts. That was why he came, in truth. He longed to be part of their gaiety filled world, even just as an observer. He shook his head. Him, a lanky, gawky, penniless hack. He could never fit here. He saw the Havens out of the corner of his eye, swaying together on the distant dance floor. They shimmered in his vision, as if they were made of something iridescent. 

Who was he kidding? He finished his whisky and stalked back to the bar, away from the brilliant pair’s happiness. 

Come three in the morning, Mike had curled up in a chair by the pool and was making up scurrilous stories in his head about the passers-by. After a half hour or so of entertaining calumny and character assassination, his head nodded and he drifted off to sleep as the partygoers drank up and retired til the morning.

 

He woke as the sun was rising. The Havens were in the loveseat next to him. Tracy had a peculiar look on her face. Half-longing and half-exasperated, with a dash of affection.

‘Well, if it isn’t our favourite writer, Dext. Good morning, Mike. Good sleep?’

He pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to get his bearings.

‘Fine, thank you, Mrs. Haven. Guess I should head home.’

’No!’ they chorused, then looked at each other. Whatever mental conversation they were having, Tracy won. She turned to Mike and put her hand on his arm. A hot-cold shiver ran up it where she touched him. 

‘We wanted a little chat with you, Mike. We have a favour to ask.’

Dexter joined in, ‘It’s about you, me and Tracy.’

Mike squinted at the two of them, still somewhat asleep.

‘You, me and Tracy? You mean, me, you and Tracy? What about them? I mean, what about us?’

Tracy and Dexter exchanged glances.

‘Well, Mike,’ Tracy began, ‘you see, we, well, we like you very much. You’re a, a tonic! That’s it, a tonic!’

‘Yes, and we’re both gins,’ murmured Dexter, earning himself an elbow from Tracy.

‘And we want you to stay with us,’ Tracy continued.

Mike felt his hackles rise. Hadn’t he already had this conversation? 

‘Still fancy playing the Medici, Tracy?’ he bit out.

She rolled her eyes and made to retort, but a look from Dexter silenced her. She waved her hand at him to go ahead, in the process removing it from Mike’s arm (which he regretted, even in his temper).

 

‘Mike,’ Dexter began, ‘this isn’t about the godawful garret you live in, or the paper-bag excuses you have for suits, or even the fact that you’ve hidden three or four sandwiches in your pockets to take home with you because you’re the very picture of the starving writer. It’s about happiness. Ours and yours.’

Tracy nodded, ‘He’s right, Mike. What I meant to say was that we need you here. You see, me and Dexter get along just fine for a while and then we start biting at each other. Not either of our faults, it’s just our natures. But when we’re around you, we’re different.’

Mike shrugged, ‘Well, company puts us on our best behaviour, I guess.’

‘No, Mike, that’s not it. We’re not on best behaviour, we’re better. Just better humans. And it’s you who brings that out in us.’

Mike looked between the two of them and shook his head.

‘Tracy, you know you can count on me as a pal, both of you.’

Tracy raised her eyes skywards. “Oh, good heavens. Mike, we’re fond of you, aren’t we, Dexter?’

Dexter smiled at Mike. It was a smile that did things to Mike’s stomach that he refused to acknowledge. ‘Very fond. You grow on a fella. I’m accustomed to you, Connor.’

’There, Mike, now don’t you see what we mean?’

Mike looked at Tracy with confusion in his eyes. 

‘Why, no. I, I can’t say that I do. You have me all mixed up, you two. Can’t you just be straight with me?’

Tracy had a mischievous thought at that moment, and decided to act on it before good manners got a hold of her.

Instead of answering, she leaned over to Mike in his chair and kissed him softly. She leaned back and smiled at him.

‘Straight enough, Mike?’

He was silent for a second and then looked down at his feet.

‘Please Tracy, don’t- don’t do things like that.’

A hand took his chin and raised it up. 

It wasn’t Tracy’s, it was Dexter’s. Who proceeded to kiss him as deeply as Tracy did softly.

‘Mike, you know I think we could do with a fella like you. You see to the heart of us. How about it?’

Mike gaped at the both of them for a moment, then guffawed incredulously.

’Is this some kind of rich people game? Or is this you two trying to get a pet?’ he almost spat the last word.

‘Why, of all the awful things!’ Tracy snapped. She folded her arms. Mike’s shoulders went back and he puffed out his chest, winding himself up to argue back, but Dexter raised his hands for peace.

‘Pax! Mike, we’re not doing anything like that, scout’s honour. Tracy, remember I said Mike’s got his pride, you of all people can’t begrudge him that.’

Mike subsided and Tracy unfolded her arms. She held out a hand to him and said, ‘Alright, pax.’

‘Pax,’ Mike agreed and shook the outstretched hand. Tracy didn’t let go, but continued to hold his hand, tightening her grip.

 

‘Mike, we don’t know how this is going to shake out,’ Tracy began haltingly, ‘but me and Dext want you. We’ve talked and talked and decided to take the plunge and put it to you.’

Mike was silent, so Dexter took up the plea.

‘Mike, we’re in this together and we want you to be in this with us too. Will you give us a shot?’

Dexter lifted his hand to Mike’s face slowly and cupped his jaw, rubbing his thumb gently along his cheekbone.

After a few seconds of this, Mike screwed his face up as if he were about to burst into tears. Then he made a guttural noise and flew at Dexter, kissing him with all he had. Tracy let out a cry of delight, which distracted Mike from kissing Dexter and he transferred his affections to Tracy. Mike became aware as he was making his way along Tracy’s (gorgeous, swan-like, soft - damn it, stop thinking like a writer, Connor and just kiss the woman!) that as Tracy’s hands were clutching his shoulders, a second pair of hands were caressing his chest and unbuttoning his shirt. He was awkwardly thrown across the Havens on the loveseat and it seemed that Dexter was using this position against him. As the hands met his skin, he gasped against Tracy’s skin, who grinned in response. 

‘Oh yes, Mike, I should have warned you that Dexter plays dirty.’ 

Dexter’s mouth made its way to Mike’s ear and started nuzzling it, murmuring how glad he was, how thrilled, how happy Mike had made them. Mike could hardly bear the feeling. He was floating, captivated, nearly giddy. All he knew was the feel of Tracy’s lips against his, Dexter’s lips against his ear, warm hands on his chest moving down… and down.

‘Please,’ he breathed, ‘Tracy, Dexter, I’m all in, I’m not going anywhere, I’m yours. Do whatever the hell you want with me.’

‘Promises, promises, Mr. Connor.’

‘Now play nice, Red, I’m used to you, Mike here isn’t,’ Dexter warned.

Mike lifted his head up and looked frantically between the two, suddenly afraid he was seen for what he was; an intruder in their Garden.

‘No! No, damn it, I mean that! Aren’t I a man of my word?’

Tracy stroked his hair gently, soothing him. ‘Yes, Mike, I know you are. It’s part of why I like you so much. Now,’ she gave his hair a little tug and he gulped, ‘I do believe Dext is feeling somewhat left out.’

Dext was in fact feeling something else entirely, but did not object to Mike’s lips and tongue being added to the proceedings. Tracy traced a fingernail down Mike’s spine, delighting in the shivers it produced. Dexter began wrangling Mike out of his coat and shirt. Unfortunately, Mike, being made entirely of sharp elbows and knees, was not helping matters by reaching out to both Dexter and Tracy, as if he was reassuring himself that they were still present and that this wasn’t some hallucination brought on by gimlets and dime novels. After a brief skirmish resulting in Tracy narrowly avoiding a goose-egg, Dexter pulled back from Mike, who followed his lips instinctively.

‘Mike, I think this might be best continued on a level surface. This loveseat seems to be conspiring against us. Shall we three go to bed and continue there?’

‘I agree, Mike. I just can’t get to all the parts of you I want to here,’ breathed Tracy, somewhere in the vicinity of his neck. 

Mike jumped up so quick, he nearly fell over. He grabbed their hands and pulled them up after him.

‘Lead me where you will,’ he declared dramatically, ‘I’m yours to command.’

The three of them ran, giggling, with only occasional pauses for outbreaks of passion, to the Havens’ bedroom. Once there, they threw their clothes hurriedly in a heap and Dexter and Tracy pressed Mike down onto the bed. He didn’t know from then on who did what. It was a blur of skin against skin, whispered sweet nothings and soft and calloused hands everywhere. 

Tracy’s magnificent body curled close to his. She was mouthing at his chest and had one of her hands in his hair. Dexter was on his other side, dark and handsome, leaning on one hand and the other stroking his thigh in a very distracting manner. 

Mike thought, in a rare lucid moment, that if he had dials, they’d all be overloaded. 

‘We’ve decided, Mike, what we want, and the question is…’ Tracy licked his collarbone and he shuddered.

‘What- what-‘

‘Now don’t interrupt, Mike, I wasn’t finished. Or was I? Was I, Dext?’

Dexter had a soft smile on his face. ‘Now who’s playing dirty? Mike, she’s not being cruel, she’s always like that when we get to this point.’

‘I- I-‘

You know? Well, I know you know. Now, what she was going to ask was, which of us do you want tonight? There’ll be plenty more fun in the morning, so don’t you worry about either of us feeling neglected.’

Mike gasped for air, then licked his lips and gathered himself as best he could.

‘Both. I want you both. Please- please don’t make me choose between you.’

Tracy and Dexter had another of their silent conversations, involving raised eyebrows and significant looks. They didn’t bother answering Mike, but instead both lowered their mouths again to his chest and throat.

Then, their hands found Mike’s cock and began stroking it in unison. He could hardly bear it and began to cry out, only to be stifled by Dexter’s mouth. He convulsed on the bed, only to be held down by his glorious torturers. They carried on mercilessly until he came with a muffled scream. He felt like he was about to fall apart at the seams as the tremors of pleasure ran through his bones.

Once this had subsided, Tracy leaned over and caressed his forehead. ‘Poor Mike, we’ve quite worn you out, haven’t we? Sleep a while.’

‘You’ll stay?’ he managed, before his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open.

Dexter’s voice followed him into slumber.

‘We’re not going anywhere, Mike.’

 

When Mike woke, he was in a bundle of warm limbs. Dexter was half across him, sound asleep. Tracy was curled up under his chin, humming softly.

‘Hello you,’ he whispered.

She lifted her head and smiled at him. Her hair was tousled and loose about her shoulders. It looked like a river at sunset.

‘Hello,’ she answered softly.

‘You look fine.’

‘I feel fine.’

‘You’re awake early.’

‘It’s nearly noon, Mike,’ she returned with a note of laughter in her voice. 

Mike stared at the ceiling for a while. Tracy lowered her head back to his chest and continued humming. 

‘I know that song.’

‘You should. You serenaded me with it the night before the wedding. I felt like returning the favour.’

She turned in his arms and looked seriously at him.

‘Any regrets, Mike?’

He thought about it for a moment, then raised his hand to cup her cheek. ‘No. No regrets. I told you last night. I’m not going anywhere. Hell, I couldn’t leave you two, though you’re cuckoo to the last. I guess I must be cuckoo too. I can’t think of a place I’d rather be.’

A groan came from the lump that was Dexter. ‘I can. A bed which does not contain two infernally lovely chatterboxes. Can’t a man sleep in peace?’

As Dexter soon found out, no, he was not going to be allowed sleep in peace. However, he was convinced not to complain about it quite easily by two infernally lovely chatterboxes.


End file.
